The other night I shocked myself by placing dinner on the table at a decent hour, and so we’d bathed and scooped out portions of homemade ice cream into plastic cups before the pressures of bedtime set in.
We dropped dollops of strawberry jam or drizzles of chocolate syrup into our cups and stirred until they’d go down like milkshakes too thick for straws.
It felt like a little piece of heaven, this open space for something so simple.
We threw on sandals and walked out the door for an evening stroll around the neighborhood. No homework or school year bed times, only the cracks of sidewalks, animal sightings and calls to neighbors punctuating steps.
The girls ran down the sidewalk with wet hair and jammies appropriate enough for outside wear, and Lala tired before the others and rode on her Papa’s back.
When we got home, Michael and I took jars of iced decaf onto the front porch, peering around the camellia that needs pruning, so we could watch Sici and J race scooters. J’s reached the age where she can compete a bit with her big sister now, and Sici’s face was covered all joy and anticipation that she’s got herself her very own racing buddy.
Lala played referee and finish line judge and said, “Great job! Don’t give up! You’re doing awesome.” She plucked lavender tops and rubbed them all over her sisters’ faces, then Michael’s and mine, so we could be “refreshed.”
“Doesn’t that feel good?” she asked.
No one bickered. No one got hurt. Everyone still smiled at the end, and I could hardly believe it.
After a dozen runs, J ran inside to scoop handfuls of water from the tap. “You can even smell the lavender on my eyelids!” she called between gulps.
When she turned off the water, I took a big dramatic sniff of her face and my nose filled with little person sweat mingled body wash, sun, fresh air.
“Mmmmm” was all I said. “Mmmmm.”
Linking with Just Write at The Extraordinary Ordinary and #TellHisStory at Jennifer’s.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
Ashley – I’m not sure if I’ve told you this before, and if I have please forgive my redundance. Every time I read your words I feel like I have come home. Meandered up a long lane and settled on a front porch with a glass of something cool. You have a way with words that transports me to “there” – wherever that is at the moment. Thank you for this today – It reminded me to breathe deep and say “Mmmmmm” today.
Tonya, humbled by your words here. Thank you so much…my goodness, aren’t we all longing for home? So if I can take you there, just a little — even to our imperfect one here in Portland, OR, friend — that makes me so so thankful.
I agree with Tonya… oh my – how I could smell the summertime and lavender and sweetness of running free way past bedtime… so much love! Happy Summer, my friend!
Thank you, dear Karrilee as always for your loving words. Happy Summer to you, too!
yep- I love the way you paint with words. always refreshing, always a bit of a larger story. always love reading.
Thank you so much, Lori. Isn’t that an amazing thing about writing? I believe it’s Anne Lamott who calls it the one-inch frame — this focusing on something small to tell the story of something bigger. I aspire. :-)
Mmmm…
:-)
Made me think about the good ol’days…oh how I miss those summer nights as a child and as a parent. Treasures!
Hugs,
Kelly
So interesting you said that, Kelly. I actually said out loud to my husband this night: “These are the good old days.” Trying to see them as the treasure they are.
What a great snap shot story of Summer at its very best: Ice cream turned thick milkshakes, no homework, no bickering, and lavender baths. I wrote my last post for the Summer. {I always take July off and just do photo posts in August} but will be sure to keep tabs on my favorite bloggers…that includes you.
Happy Summer
and
Cheers!
Thanks, Leah! What a good idea you have for your summer blogging. I’ve sure been struggling to find the time and space to write.
Yummy Mmmmmmmm’s :D
Thank you for your presence here as always, dear Kelly.
Oh my goodness, friend. Oh my goodness. I got to the end of this, and your “Mmmmm” at the end just tickled me and spread a huge smile across my face, and I felt I’d, too, eaten homemade ice cream and smelled the lavender and little person sweat, and sat outside on the porch with you. I love your stories.
That makes me happy. Wish you were here. :-)
ditto ditto echo ditto! I’m a very long ways away from summer as a child…or at least I WAS…but you gave me a fresh and familiar taste of it here, with its unhurried pace, its freedoms, smells and sounds. my soul is refreshed in lala’s lavender and your words, ashley, always. xoxo
Ah, thanks, Mama. If summer can be just a little bit of refreshment, what gift. And you, too…grateful.